


We Find Ourselves Inside

by KimberlyAlexis



Category: Freebatch - Fandom, Sherlock (TV), Sherlock (TV) RPF
Genre: Angst, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Slow Burn, Sneaking in that, Some may want the roller coaster, The ride isn’t for everyone, The slowest burn I’ve ever done. Maybe not as slow as multi year fics, This is not the roller coaster, Walking that tight rope of trying to make it a fic escpae, YEs yes that fuckin quarantine fic every fuckin body knew was coming, and Martin is a soft, and genuinely I don’t care if that bothers you, but also deals with real life shit just in a less scary way, but hella slow, my fanon version of bc and mf love each other so much, tag because oops chapter 12 is like rip out my heart angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-18
Updated: 2020-04-20
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:21:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 14,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23193097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KimberlyAlexis/pseuds/KimberlyAlexis
Summary: Takes place in 2020. Years after the last series of Sherlock aired, Benedict Cumberbatch decides to be honest about what took the show off the rails. Ben also decides to ensure John and Sherlock's relationship finally becomes what it was meant to be. Although the script is written and Ben's on board, there's still Martin Freeman  left to convince. In order to bring Martin on board to Sherlock Series 5 Benedict stops by Martin's house, but the mandatory 2020 COVID-19 quarantine/ curfew is announced requiring Martin and Benedict to spend two weeks together. The fortnight gives Benedict enough time to convince Martin, but also finds the pair working to avoid feelings they long ago decided to never reveal.
Relationships: Benedict Cumberbatch/Martin Freeman
Comments: 42
Kudos: 59





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note: There is no mandatory quarantine in England. I think Martin is in California right now? Ben is in England maybe? IDK. In essence this takes place in an AU that's just like our world dealing with fuckin Covid-19, but the Queen gets involved and Mark Gatiss actually wanted Johnlock as compared to ...him being...who he is *cough* the worst *cough*
> 
> Updates: So obvs since writing this the Queen has made a speech and they are being more hardcore with stay at home requirements but still this is an AU of sorts 
> 
> ********  
> The human world's a mess.gif so I wrote about these two dopes.  
> Plans are to update at least once a week.  
> But let's see how the world treats us...could be more or less  
> chapters are going to be odd in length (some mad long, some ridonk short)

Martin Freeman stood in his still-new-to-him closet and had a look around. He wasn't nervous. Don't fuckin' call it that. He, like the rest of the world, had a layer of anxiety always there waiting to grow into something that cut off his ability to think. But right the fuck now he was okay, he was fine. And he was in a pretty damn safe place because this was one of this favorite places in his whole house, hell maybe even the world. 

Everyone had their thing and if you talked to Martin for more than a few minutes you realized that clothes was definitely one of his. There's something about how clothes can change your mood, your lot in life, your ability to feel something. And Martin knew that better than most. Because at the end of the day he looked in the mirror and...well he wasn't the ugliest motherfucker around, nor that ace looking fucker that wet dreams were made of. But when he picked out a nice suit and did his hair just right...fuck you...maybe he wasn't your first choice player in the wet dream, but if he turned up you were damn well happy he did.

But he wasn't really sure what he would be wearing today. And so, maybe, maybe he was a bit concerned (not nervous) about the day because really for hanging about his house he shouldn't even be questioning what to wear...well not this much. 

After the "divorce", after the apartment, after the final realising that he really had to move on he'd bought this house and started kitting it out to what he wanted. What he wanted was as he said to his contractor "a big, fucking closet."

The contractor who did work for plenty of "known" people knew damn well to not make a comment about it, because the man was known for his discretion. Which was what Simon Pegg had said to him when he recommended him to Martin, which made Martin, of course, wonder just what the hell Pegg had paid the man to build. The man nodded, took down information, and a few weeks (not months like Martin was sure it would be) he had the closet of his fuckin' dreams. Space for everything and room to grow. He filled it with every piece of clothing he owned, the stuff he'd kept in storage back at Amanda's, and the stuff he'd bought when he was grief shopping. And he loved looking at it all. 

Martin Freeman , 48, fit for his age, and though he never talked about it, he did put SOME work into it. working out in his gym at least twice a week and hating every minute of it. His hair was a dark blonde, mixed with grey, and his eyes were ocean blue. Or at least that's how he liked to describe it, before he made a joke about it before smiling with a crinkle to his eyes and sighing before he went for a kiss. That was his move.

His closet was full with a myriad of shades. His favorite colours were well...honestly all. He thought there was no colour he didn't like in one form or another. He looked at his ties--lime green, burnt sienna, magenta, orange, and of course all the standards were there, but today really wasn't a tie day was it? No suit today, no pressed trousers. It would have to be jeans and a t-shirt and maybe a pair of comfy socks...though his preference was barefooted. He had carpet, not the dumb hardwood floors that everyone seemed to love. His carpet was plush and comfy and he liked feeling it between his toes as he walked room to room. 

The door bell rang so he quickly grabbed a pair of jeans and his most comfy t-shirt and opened the door.


	2. Chapter 2

Benedict Timothy Carlton Cumberbatch, 43, dark auburn hair and eyes he was terribly shy about people describing as anything other than just blue or green was standing on Martin Freeman's doorstep just a few hours earlier than he needed to be here. The reason being is that he had a script in his bag. A few scripts actually. Scripts that Martin didn't know anything about. Scripts that were the direct result of a conversation Ben had with Mark Gatiss, show runner of the show Benedict and Mark starred in. 

The show was Sherlock.  
The return date was set.  
Ben knew it.  
The show runners knew it.  
Martin's agent knew it.  
But Martin didn't.  
  
Because it was Ben's job to convince him to come back. That was the deal he made with Mark.  
***

_"So you're saying you're ready for...what now?" Mark put his glasses down and closed his book._

_"Did you not hear anything I just said?" Ben said exasperated and blew a raspberry._

_"Ben, you came to my house in the middle of the night and though I know you're not drunk as you said 'I'm NOT drunk' a few times which definitely makes it believable...but perhaps can we agree that you're a bit tipsy?"_

_"Maybe wibble bittle," Ben replied._

_"Right. Can you stand? Come to the kitchen." Mark stood, followed by Ben._

_They walked over the the kitchen where Ben slumped down into the chair as Mark went to work with coffee beans and a hand grinder. He took a moment to flip on the kettle before going back to the grinder. Ben caught a whiff of the coffee in the air and something about that made him giggle._

_"Alright," Mark said. "Go on.."_

_"I was wrong."_

_Mark gave a hollow laugh._

_"I was really wrong,"Ben said and emphasized the 'really' and held out the 'o' in wrong._

_"That you were," Mark said. "But what made you get drunk and realize it now?"_

_Mark moved the quickly ground coffee beans into a french press and stared at Ben who seemed to be in a world of his own before snapping back to attention._

_"Iditfore."_

_"Ben," Mark sighed. "As much as talking to a drunk person is fun....I do want to return to my book. It's the only thing taking my mind off ...well everything in the world."_

_Ben took a deep breath and seemed to find a moment of sobriety. "I knew then...when I asked....that."_

_"You mean when you had your agent email me to state you would not proceed with the show if we included a romantic storyline? A storyline that the show had been planning for years? That little thing?"_

_"I'm sorry," Ben said. "I am."_

_"You had your agent send it, Ben." Mark said and though his words were said with no inflection,they had an edge that could not be ignored._

_"I was wrong." Ben said and waited. Mark turned to pick up the kettle and poured the hot water in the press, stirred, and started to work the plunge. The water started to pour through and the coffee aroma filled the air. Silently Mark waited until enough was available and he opened the cupboard, picked out a mug, and poured a cup full. He walked over to the table and slid the cup over to Ben who took it in his hands and breathed in the heavy scent before he took a sip._

_"Fuck that's hot."_

_Mark laughed. "Oh. Sorry. Meant to warn you."_

_"No you didn't," Ben said and tried to look at the tip of his tongue. "Bastard."_

_"Well sobered you up, didn't it?" Mark said with a smile._

_"I was already getting there ya know."_

_"This is more fun," Mark said and scrunched up his nose before having another laugh. "For me at least."_

_"I'm sorry," Ben said changing the mood, his tone somber. "I was scared. I didn't know what to do. I felt like...if it happened then other things would...just. But I was wrong and it screwed up the show."_

_"I wouldn't say screwed up....," Mark gave a slight shrug._

_"It was bad, Mark."_

_"Fine. It wasn't...good. But you're saying okay now? I have to ask...why now?"_

_"Well...what did you mean about the book you were reading taking your mind off everything?"_

_Mark sighed. "I see," Mark said. Catching Ben's drift very quickly. "So this is your contribution to changing the world for the better?"_

_"Is it a bit ridiculous of me to think it could make things better?"_

_"Wait. Are you saying if two white men share a kiss it on television it won't save the entire world?"_

_Ben laughed and Mark laughed. They knew better, but it was something they could put out in the world to make it slightly better...if only for just one someone._

_"Well," Mark said after a few moments. "I suppose I can forgive you for ruining my quiet New Years Eve plans. As I find I now have plans for the whole of 2020."_

_Benedict raised his coffee mug. "To 2020?"_

_Mark laughed. "The year we finally shoot the loaded gun."_


	3. Chapter 3

"You're early. Insanely early. What the fuck?" Martin asked with a raised eyebrow.

"I--"

"Come on in then," Martin stepped back. Ben noticed he was wearing a Ziggy Stardust t-shirt and jeans. No socks which was very Martin. 

"So going to assume this is just a social call? I got your message, but wasn't sure what you meant by hanging out for a few hours in March meant. Especially with you having sent the email about it a month ago. Most people don't need to schedule a 'hang' so far in advance."

Ben walked in and followed Martin. "Sorry, just wanted to make sure you'd be here and have the free time."

"Ahh. Well this year I'm trying to keep things slow, shooting less things." Martin turned around and gave Ben a wink.

Ben had to sputter it out before he stopped himself. "We need to talk about the show."

Martin stopped as they got to a large sitting room filled with three different sofas and two plush chairs. In the middle of the room was a television but it was turned off. And though there were shelves they weren't quite what he expected. No albums, no books. Each shelf was empty.   
  
Martin seemed to follow Ben's eyes. 

"I haven't decided on this room yet. I knew I had to have a TV. Hell the children would drive me mad if I couldn't sit them in front of a TV at least for thirty minutes of silence. But what to put up on the shelves? No idea." 

"Your scores and scores of albums perhaps?" Ben asked. 

"Aha! Those are in my favorite room in the house. Music room. Wanna see?" Martin turned towards the stairs. Ben reached out a hand.

"Actually do you mind...if we talk first?"

Martin raised an eyebrow, Ben dropped his hand. 

"Sure, sure." Martin lifted a hand , offering Ben to have a seat. Ben walked in and took a seat on the closest couch. Martin didn't take a seat. "Shall I make tea while you build up to whatever it is..."

Ben laughed. "please."

As Martin left the room, Ben pulled out the scripts from the bag he'd been carrying. Three scripts, two copies each. He sat them down and waited.


	4. Chapter 4

Time after New Years Eve passed by quickly and towards the end of February Ben had a knock at a door and a messenger had him sign for the scripts he had just placed on the table. 

He knew what they were, but he couldn't read them. Not until he was with Martin and explained to him exactly what happened a few years ago.

***

He looked good, Martin thought. Really good. Not that he didn't expect Ben to look good. He always did, but he didn't really expect him to look this good. There was something about Ben when he let his hair grow out a bit. Maybe it was just that it took Martin back to a different time and place. Martin went through the act of making tea which, like all good routines, is meant to calm you the hell down. But for some reason this time he felt himself growing tense with every action that got him closer to being lead back to that room and sitting down. He'd gotten the email a few weeks back and after going through his head and calendar looking for an excuse he finally agreed. 

'And why wouldn't I?' Martin asked himself. The reality is they hadn't seen each other for a while, but they'd texted here and there. They were cordial, polite, and really weren't something you'd imagine between two people who knew each other for ten years. Or maybe it was when you worked together and then things went a bit sour.

***

  
_"I don't mean to blame him," Martin had told his friend Tom when discussing the show, one of those rare times that Martin talked about the show._

_"But you do?" Tom had asked. His eyebrows raised as Martin took a drink of his gimlet. His favorite gin drink of late._

_"I just don't know if the rumors were true. Sets are like schools with people starting rumors here and there, but a few people I trust said the were given a different set of setups and props and then it all changed."_

_"So what does that mean? The scripts changed? Don't you see the scripts before everyone else?"_

_Martin laughed. "No, not really. There's other more important people who have to put sets up and make sure the things they want to do is actually possible. Takes them a lot longer to figure that out than to please a couple of actors. So we get them later, sent through agents, and what not. And I believe Ben's contract calls for him to get it first. Not that it matters. He's always been good about waiting to read until we both had time so we could call each other after."_

_"But not the last series?"_

_"I don't know it was...odd. My agents promise we never got a script, but Mark had texted that he'd sent the first ones over jokingly saying he was excited to see which lines I'd want to remove. So I checked in, but no scripts in my email, none delivered. Nothing. So I finally text Gatiss back and say 'well I do want to see the script before I take out some lines' and he replied back that the script was a few weeks out which was...odd.”_

_“How so?”_

_“Dunno. Just got the feeling that he had to go through rewrites and well...People said that it was due to Ben wanting it all changed.”_

_“But why would Benedict want a script changed?”_

_“That’s what I’ve always wondered, but not enough to do anything about it.”_

_“Just hold a grudge?” Tom asked and gave Martin a kick under the table they were having brunch at._

_“Ow! And tt’s not a grudge, It’s nothing really. Just me thinking too much about something. You know how I am.”_

_“I do,” Tom said. “And I think you should let this non-grudge go. Isn't helping anyone ya know? And life is short, Martin. You know about short things.”_

_Martin laughed, but kicked Tom back and then thought about his words to let the "non-grudge" go._

_So he did. Martin was the first to reach out to Ben after all the hoopla died down about him supposedly hating the show. He texted to say it was all blown out of proportion. Ben said he agreed. And they asked after each other. They checked in from time to time. But never saw each other. And now Ben was in the next room. The question Martin Freeman had for himself , of course, was had he actually let his non-grudge go, and if he hadn’t then when would he finally ask Ben about the script change that everyone gossiped was at Ben’s request._


	5. Chapter 5

Martin finished with the teas. He had the builder's brew that Ben favoured and the special Lapsang Souchong that Martin liked to drink on days like this. He even opened up a tin of biscuits and put them on a little tray and carried them in. When he got back to the room Martin noticed scripts stacked up on the small coffee table. He could recognize that logo and font from yards away, those were Sherlock scripts but for what end?

***  
Ben took a breath as Martin entered the room. No time like the present.

“Series Five scripts,” he said and nothing else. Martin would fill in the blanks and by the time Ben left here he would convince Martin to do the show again. He would fix his mistake made out of fear.

***

Martin sat down still holding the tea tray. As if he forgot he needed to put it down. There was still room at the end of the table. Martin just seemed a bit lost for words. 

“And,” Benedict continued. “I think we should read these for the first time together.”

“Right,” Martin said then screwed up his face and said. “Right.” Again before adding. “I’m sorry what?”

Ben gave a small, worried smile. He didn’t think this was exactly an ambush before but it sure as hell felt like one now. He just wanted to do this with Martin. He wanted to gauge exactly how he felt about the whole thing. Martin finally set the tray down and picked up his phone. It has just buzzed loudly, but then so did Ben's.

Martin said, "Fuck." as he stared at his phone. Ben pulled his out and said, "Shit."

They stared across from each other as Martin silently reached out to take the remote off the coffee table and he turned on the news.

"This is an emergency broadcast. Please stand by for a message from The Queen." Martin and Ben shared a quick look at each other before turning back to the television screen just as Queen Elizabeth appeared. 

"For many today's newly required restrictions will not come as a shock. The news around the world has taught us that we must stem the tide of this ever-increasing illness that has struck down too many of the world's citizens. We are a strong nation and we must take precautions to ensure the future of our great people. As such all travel is being restricted at this time. The locations you are in will be your home for the next 14 days. Now, we understand, of course, the issues this may cause and so at the end of this broadcast we'll provide a telephone number for assistance with moving those who may be stuck in shopping areas or work offices or places that are not residential locations. We do ask if you are in a domicile that you allow those callers who are truly in need of transportation assistance to call first. I understand this feels extreme, but in this instance extreme measures are required. Food services and medical services will be available as well at a second number that will be provided. Again if you are in a home with enough food supply for the required two week period we ask that you give others the opportunity to call first. This will be a trying time, but I have every confidence that all who hear this message will be able to answer the call for understanding and support. May you be kept in good health as we stem the tide of this virus.  
May you be kept in good spirits knowing your actions can keep a fellow human healthy.  
May you and all those you hold dear keep calm and carry on towards the lowering of the upwards climb of further loss of life. Thank you and Good day to all."

The screen faded to the Queen's logo which held there for a long moment before Martin turned the TV off.

They stared at each other for a full minute before Martin blinked and said, "I need to check in with Amanda." He stood and walked upstairs with his phone at the ear.

"Yeah, yeah...of course," Ben said and he pulled out his phone to call Sophie, but the call wouldn't connect. He pressed to send the call through but the call failure notice kept coming through. A few seconds after his 10th try a text from Sophie came through.

  
**Tried call, but calls won't connect, imagine lots of people calling right now. Are you okay?**

**Yes. At Martin's**

  
**Oh dear so you'll be there during this. Do you think you'll be able to get back to the house? I don't imagine two men in a five-bedroom house with probably lots of food would be priority**

**Not sure. Perhaps I could call in a favor, but I wouldn't want to take away resources from others.**

At this Ben decided to walk toward's the front of Martin's home and take a look outside. He'd walked in here not even an hour ago, but the street which had a few people walking around earlier and showed life was now nearly completely deserted. A few constables were walking around. They didn't have on riot gear, but they were all wearing their very large hats and big boots. Their batons were already in hand and extended. 

"Jesus," Ben said and it seemed one noticed him and began walk towards him. He quickly closed the door and walked back towards the main room and stairs of Martin's home. Martin came back downstairs and said, “Calls not going through.”

“Yeah try texting. Sophie couldn’t get through either but texts are working.”

“Thanks,” Martin said and quickly moved his phone from near his ear to in both hands to start typing a message as he walked down the stairs and nearly tripped on the last one before righting himself. He walked over to the chair he was in previously and sat down. 

He started shaking his head. “I can’t tell if it’s going through. I can’t. Fuck. My kids...” 

Ben without thought, reached for Martin’s hand to hold it and give a squeeze. Martin took a breath as he tried to calm himself down. He looked away then back to Ben and gave a tight smile. 

“Thanks. Sorry I just. I know they’re with Amanda and she’d cut someone’s throat before she let something happen to them, but ya know. Worrying is part of the dad deal. How’s Sophie? Your boys?”

“Okay. She was already in the country with them for the upcoming month. Fully stocked and they shouted be fine. Both sets of grandparents were there too. I was going to join them this weekend.”

“Oh. Sorry. At least they're okay. That's..that's really good.” Martin seemed to sigh with some relief. And Ben bit his lip and looked over at Martin. They held silently giving each other a look of shared concern. "Ben..." Martin said and Ben realized his hand was still on Martin’s. He quickly removed it and looked back at his phone which pinged at that moment. 

**All okay here. Boys playing outside. No one around, but your parents and mine. Everyone okay. How are you? Have you told him yet?**

**Not yet. Will update you later. I love you. I'm sorry about this.**

**Nothing to be sorry about. We're fine. And this needs to be done. Everyone doing their part. Maybe this will be good. He's gotta hear you out over a two week period right? :)**

**You're amazing**

  
**Oh I definitely know**

"Two weeks," Ben said aloud reading it on her text and it all finally coming home. 

Martin looked at him. Ben looked back and noticed Martin's face changed to one of resolve.

"I'm going to be honest with you, Ben." Martin gave a sigh and picked up each of the scripts then stood and walked over to the shelf and set them down. "I don't want to do the show again."


	6. Chapter 6

Day One

The first day was going to be easy enough, right? 

Where would Ben sleep?

Martin had a guest room past his and the kids' rooms.

What would they eat?

Martin was a homebody and felt like a home should always be filled with food. He kept enough food in the house normally to feed himself, his kids, and friends that might pop over. In all reality they had enough food that could keep them well-fed for a few months, definitely more than the required few weeks. 

What would they do though?

A few hours passed with Martin slumped over his phone. He was waiting for some sign of life from Amanda and his kids, but nothing came through on his mobile. The telly was off. Ben was sat at the far end of the couch scrolling through his phone. They'd been in silence for 2.5 hours at that point and the only sounds were random ones you heard when a house was filled with anxious people awaiting bad news. So it startled the both of them when the landline phone rang.

"What's that?" Ben asked. Hearing the twill of a landline phone which wasn't something either man had been used to for a long time. 

"Oh it's the...it's the landline. 'Manda made me get one in case of emergency." Martin hopped up and ran up the stairs. The phone was on his bedside table, though it was tucked near the the edge. He really never used it.

"Hello," Martin said, slightly out of breath from the run.

"Martin...God. Why do you sound like that?" Amanda said with a bit of a laugh.

"Because I bloody legged it upstairs because you called me on the emergency phone."

"Well. I mean it's a national fucking lockdown. Queen on the telly. Police on the streets. I dunno about you, but seems like a bit of an emergency to me."

The tension eased from Martin's shoulders as Amanda poked fun at him. He knew that everything had to be okay with the kids otherwise she wouldn't be joking like this.

"How are they?"

"Well luckily Joe was on punishment so he wasn't over his evil shit friend Kyle's house."

"Oh fuck. Is Kyle still a friend? I thought you'd scared him off."

"Fucker is sticking around even past me telling him I'd cut off his willy." Amanda gave a wistful sigh. As if she was really quite put out that her willy cutting should've done the trick.

"Awful influence," Martin said. "Do you know he told Joe to ask me about Dykes and Blow?"

"Oh the asshole. Fuck I hate him. How the hell does a 12 year old get to be such a total asshole?"

"You met his parents?" Martin asked.

"You mean Mr. and Mrs. we home school our darling boy so he doesn't pick up the bad habits of the world?"

"Or the ability to socialize like a half normal fucker?"

"Right?" Amanda said. And they both laughed. And Martin felt nearly okay again. This is who they are. This is who they've always been. The best of friends raising kids and just trying to survive it all. Still he needed to ask.

"So they're both at home and okay?"

"Yep," Amanda replied. "Though this does mean the likelihood that they'll drive me utterly insane pretty fucking quickly. Be prepared in two weeks time to take them for a nice, long week while I try to drink myself under a table and on top of a table and all other various table related drinking activities."

Martin huffed out a laugh. "That I will. I'm um with--"

"Suppose you've been training for this years. It'll just be you alone for two weeks. You and your records and old movies. Almost heaven right?"

"I suppose," He said quickly moving past the idea of telling her who was stuck with him.

"Listen I know you want to talk to them so let me get them and no need to get back on with me. Mobile phones aren't working great so we'll be calling you here and I'll send you daily pictures on your email. We'll skype if you can figure that out."

"I will. Promise. Very soon. Will boot it up and...Skype!" Martin said it with far too much enthusiasm. 

"I believe you said you'd figure out Skype when you went to New Zealand the first time around so I won't hold my breath, darling."

"Oh shut up," Martin said, but it was with no bite. "Can I talk to my beautiful children now?"

"Yes," She laughed. "Take care, Martin."

"You do the same, Amanda," Martin said.

"Daddy!" "DAD!" Martin heard the kids fighting over the phone and it was almost like he was there.

****

  
Ben could hear Martin laughing upstairs so he figured this would be a good time to scope out the room that Martin said could be his for the next few weeks. It was upstairs on the opposite end of Martin's bedroom. Ben walked into the room and looked around. It had it it's own en suite bathroom, a nice bed, and a small bed side table with a lamp. He opened the closet and was surprised to find there were pajamas there and not in Martin's size. They were much taller than Martin was and also wider. They were made of silk and looked absolutely brand new. Their newness was confirmed when Ben noticed a price tag still attached. Also at the bottom of the closet was a pair of slippers. 

He walked backed and sat on the bed. He was scared like everyone else, of course, but overall he often held together by a few things. The first was that he was incredibly privileged. He would likely be okay in most situations. The second was Sophie. She really was a rock that he chose and she chose him to take this weird and wild journey along with her. And the last was that at this time in his life he was on a mission. Not that he knew exactly how to fulfill his mission. He just knew that it involved taking his head out of his ass where it'd be firmly placed for the past few years of his life. A life that was full of more falsehoods and half-truths than he wanted.

The door to his room creaked opened and he looked up to see Martin standing there.

"Found your room?" Martin asked. He leaned against the door frame. An ease on him that Ben hadn't seen all evening.

"Yep. Everything okay?" Ben asked knowing the answer already.

"Yeah. Talked to 'Manda and the kids. They're okay." Martin entered the room and set next to Ben on the bed. "She said once it's over I'll have the kids for a full week. So that'll be fun."

"I bet you can't wait,right?" Ben asked with a smile.

"After this?" Martin looked. His eyes alight with imagining it. "I can't wait." He reached out a hand to Ben's shoulder and gave it a squeeze. "Hey. Sorry I've been...I mean...Not a great host or whatever. But we'll make this work. Your room okay?"

"Yeah," Ben said and offered nothing else. Then Ben looked at Martin and let his mind dwell on the aftermath of the words that were on the tip of his tongue. It could go many ways, but now wasn't the time for fear, but hope. He'd let himself have hope a lot of times in his lifetime. When he tried out for each and every part he wanted, but didn't think he was good enough for. When he asked Sophie for her hand in marriage. When he was in the back of a trunk of a car thinking he was breathing his last breaths while kidnapped. Now was a time for hope and faith. Ben took a breath. He turned towards Martin, took his hand off his shoulder, and held in both his hands.

Martin looked up.

"You okay?"

Ben let it all go and decided now was the time. There was no going back.

"Martin, I'm gay."


	7. Chapter 7

Day One (Con't)

Ben had let the words finally leave his mouth and he wasn't quite sure if he should follow it up, or just wait. Still. He remained silent and waited.

"You're gay?" Martin asked. Ben gave a slight nod to his head. Martin looked at their hands then away from Martin, as if he was looking towards the door. Then he looked back at Ben. "You're gay. I'm bi. But...why are you telling me this now?"

Martin's eyebrows knit together and there appeared to be true confusion on his face.

"I just figured...with us staying under the same roof that..." Ben sputtered out.

"If you come out to everyone you've share a house with then I gotta say I think that might count as being a bit too forthcoming, Ben."

"No it's," Ben started then stopped. "I dunno. I felt like I should tell you...." He finished with the last words said silently. Almost as if he ran out of steam.

"I don't care. You know that right?" 

"Yes," Ben said too quickly then added. "I guess."

"I mean," Martin turn his hand upside down and let Ben's fall into his and he gave it a squeeze. "Thank you for telling me, but your sexuality has nothing to do with us spending time together. Surely you don't think I'd ..what...kick you out for being gay? I'm an actor, Ben. I've shared plenty of space with plenty of people...all walks of life and I'm not...surely know I'm not that asshole. C'mon---" Martin stopped. He leaned forward and gave Ben a hug and ended with a kiss on his cheek and then sat back. "We good?"

"Yes...just," Ben said. He felt like now was the time to reveal more, but this felt like a moment to move on.

Martin raised his eyebrows, gave a tilt of his head.

"Yes," Ben said. "Thank you."

"The fuck you thanking you for?" Martin asked. He removed his hand from their grip and gave a pat on Ben's back. Martin laid back on the bed with his legs hanging off and him looking up at the ceiling. Ben followed suit. They laid there for a minute when Martin reached out a hand to Ben's thigh and gave it a squeeze. "So how long before I get to ask about things?"

"Like what?" Ben turned his heads towards him.

"Oh ya know...," Martin said without turning towards Ben but tilting his head slightly side to side. "You're married to a woman. I mean you didn't say 'bisexual' you said gay. Gay implies you really only like the dingles and the dangles not the vingles and the vangles."

"What the hell is a dingle and dangle and a vingle and a vangle?"

Martin shrugged his shoulders. "I dunno. Maybe cis and trans? I dunno. I picked it up somewhere to include everyone. But fine. You like dicks. So as the kids would say...what up with that?"

Ben gave a sigh. He wasn't quite sure why he didn't consider Martin would ask about this. Maybe because even his closest friends never asked. Not Judge or James. Keira or Katia. Everyone mostly just accepted that he was now with Sophie. Though maybe that was because most others weren't as forthcoming as Martin naturally was. The truth was pretty complicated and the reality is that he didn't want to betray Sophie's portion in this. Ben thought long and hard about what he was going to say. He didn't want to lie, but needed to consider his words.

He took a breath. "She accepts me and I accept her. Most importantly we both wanted children and a family."

Martin said nothing other than "Ahh" and then turned to look at the ceiling again. A few moments passed by and he said. "So about my being bi...."

"You never really hid it so it's not news..." Ben said honestly. "Was it meant to be?"

"Nope," Martin said. "I mean you know me. I'm not one to shout about any part of my life, but yeah I feel like I've never been one of those hiding." Martin stopped and turned towards Ben. "Though I understand those who need to. I know a few people who can't quite be out with it. Careers and all that."

"Yeah," Ben said. "Pretty much that and..." He gave a shrug. "It's tougher the longer you don't say. At first I was going to say something. A few years into the show actually. But then...I don't know...things changed."

"You realised maybe you could have a real career and so you decided to keep mum?"

"Pretty much," Ben said. Martin had summed it up in a short sentence. "But...also I did want children and a family. I really just needed..someone to share a life with and Sophie wanted...similar things. It made sense."

"Ooof fuck me. 'It made sense' how romantic."

"Shut up!" Ben said with a laugh. "Not everyone gets the love story like you and Aman-" Ben stopped. It used to be his go-to joke when Martin in the past would joke about Ben not settling down, but they hadn't really been in a place to joke about things like that for a while. "Sorry."

"No, I mean we're not together anymore, but we did have a good love story. No doubt about it." Martin gave a sad smile. "No matter how it ended I'm glad for what we had...I dunno. Most relationships end pretty shitty. Ours didn't...not entirely." He stopped talking and his face wasn't quite wistful, not quite sad...just accepting. 

"So....," Ben knew now was the time to change the subject. "Does that mean those pyjamas were for a ...friend?"

Martin lifted his eyebrows. "Oh those. Well...I mean....yeah he's a friend, but yeah...also a FRIEND." Martin gave the emphasis to the word and Ben immediately understood that he'd inferred correctly.

"Something um...serious?" Martin sat up at that question. He couldn't be more obvious, but his avoidance also included him saying. "Should we get something to eat?"

Ben sat up as well. "Yep."

They walked from Ben's temporary bedroom and downstairs silently with Martin in lead and Ben following behind closely. Once they'd made it downstairs and into the kitchen Martin stood and took a look around. "So like I said earlier, plenty of food, but what are you in the mood for? I'm not a good cook. But I try."

"I can cook," Ben said. "I mean I'm not expert. Just I like it. It's calming. Plus plenty of years on your own and you have to learn."

Martin waived a hand. "Be my guest."

Ben moved into the kitchen as Martin seemed intent to leave then Ben reached out a hand to Martin's and gave it a squeeze. "Stay?"

Martin smiled and gave a laugh. "Well I wasn't going to just sit like lord of the manor and wait for you to serve me. I was just going to go put some tunes. What you feel like?"

"Something chill?" Ben said. 

"What about jazz? I mean as long as you're here then I feel like I should take this time to help you pick up some good taste."

"Oy!" Ben said and then with a shrug. "Jazz is fine." With that Ben turned to look at what options. When he saw the rice and the fresh vegetables in Martin's fridge he decided on a stir fry. A few moments later he heard the jazz in the background and Ben looked up to see the speakers that were installed throughout the house. Definitely an addition Martin would've added to this house.

As Ben took out the ingredients for the stir-fry and set the rice to a very low boil he took a look around at Martin's kitchen. It wasn't terribly big nor small. Fridge and a few set of cupboards. There was an open space that was like a half-island that signaled the edge of the kitchen. Atop was a very sturdy cutting board and not far off were nice knives in many colors. Alongside the half-island were a few high-chair stools. Wooden, but a dark finish was on them and each of them had a nice , plush cushion. Ben gave a smile as he finished cutting the veggies and tossed them in the wok he found in the cabinet to the left of Martin's stove. Martin came down the stairs a few moments later. 

"What're you smiling about?"

"Just...you really. Even your kitchen stools are nice and comfortable."

"Oh hell. I had a fuckin time getting these. I mean why the hell are those things always so fuckin hard and uncomfortable as shit?"

Ben gave a shrug.

"Exactly. So I had something in mind because if I'm going to use something I want it to be comfortable so I had to have them special made."

"Really?"

"What's weird about that?"

"Don't know feels like an extravagance you wouldn't normally splurge on."

"If it's something for my home...or my wardrobe then I think it's well fuckin worth it. Don't you?"

"Yep," Ben said and popped the P. He turned back to the stir fry and the rice and focused on it as Martin began humming along with the tune.

"Wait..wait listen to this," he said. 

Ben turned to look and give a listen after turning the burners a little lower. He heard a trumpeting horn that seemed to be melancholy as it had been the whole song, but then it slowly changed...morphed into a brighter sound that seemed to say a new key, a new world had been found. 

"Brilliant right?"

"It is," Ben said and he looked at Martin very purposely as he said it. And he let his mind dwell for a minute. He thought of those many years ago when they stood in a room reading those scripts and properly meeting for the first time. Martin had said 'This could be really brilliant' then. And it was the first time Ben had heard him say it. He didn't say it as often as other people did. People really were a bit too carefree with that word, but when Martin said that word it carried real meaning. You could tell Martin had really given it a proper think through before he deemed something to be brilliant. Back then Martin and him had quickly realised that it wasn't just the words they were reading that was brilliant, but them together. 

He didn't know what made him say it and knew that it might not go down well so he turned his back and started to work on the meal again. 

"We were brilliant you know..." Ben said.

Martin was silent for a moment. Ben didn't know what he was thinking, but then he said.

"Who d'ya mean?"

"Me and you. As them..." He didn't dare say their characters names in case that was too much.

"Oh." Martin said. "Fuck yeah we were. Unbelievably brilliant."

Ben's shoulders eased a bit, Martin wasn't absolutely against discussing the show. That was something. "It's just us here...so."

"Yeah?"

"Favorite bit on the show...not the press answer. But the real one."

"Oh hands down the first episode, first series. The bit where they meet. I dunno. Maybe closely followed by the bit where they go out to eat. Though the bit where they're laughing at the end of the first episode where they walk away laughing near the crime scene. Also very good. Pretty much anything with both of us in it. All damn brilliant."

Ben smiled. "True." He gave a final stir as he combined the rest and then took the two plates he'd found earlier and plated the stir fry with the bed of rice on bottom and the veggies on top.

"And then...," Martin said and he immediately reached out to get a sauteed veg and pop it in his mouth and chewed. He raised his eyebrows and gave a look showing he was impressed. He put his fingers to his lips completing the chef's kiss motion as he finished chewing. "Very good. Wow."

"Thanks," Ben said and came around to sit in the chair next to Martin. "All my favorite bits too," Ben said. He took a bite and waited to see if Martin would take the bait. Martin finished chewing his bite and did indeed.

"Oh come on. I hate that. There's no way you don't have any different ones. Okay gun to your head, you have to pick or they pull the trigger...what's your absolute favorite scene."

"Honest answer?"

"Yeah, of course. I mean I don't want to let them pull the trigger , but hey that's the rules of the game." Martin said with a laugh then took another bite.

"Okay," Ben said finishing up a chew and then wiping his mouth with a napkin. "If I'm being really honest..."

Martin made a motion with hands to agree that's what he wanted and get on with it. 

"Really honest?" Ben set it up one more time.

"YES!" Martin said with a shout and his eyes lit up with excitement or annoyance. Ben couldn't figure out which.

"Probably," Ben cleared his throat and looked into Martin's eyes. "The scene with us together in John's old bedsit."

Martin narrowed his eyes, knitted his eyebrows together in confusion, gave a shake of his head.

"I don't remember that one...what episode was that?"

"It's in the series five,episode one. Do you want to read it?"

Martin's face turned deadly. He huffed out a breath and sat back in his chair and looked over at Ben. His voice was monotone and he didn't look at Ben who had stopped eating as well. Instead Martin folded his arms and looked down at his plate as if it was going to answer.

"Tell me, Ben. Did you make them change the last series scripts?"

Ben's face went stark white. Martin knew more than Ben thought. But did he know the reason behind the change?


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right so someone left a hella rude comment saying this fic was too slow so I want to address that upfront because I was kind of close to taking my ball and going home. 
> 
> First off it's shocking that it must be said but never leave a shitty comment on a free fanfic. Don't be that person. If you don't like it then don't read it. If it's taking too long on a WIP then wait until they're finished. This fandom has a lot of finished works in it so get thee to them.
> 
> Second I'm writing this for me, but inviting others along for the ride. That's kind of how a lot of fanfic works. You want to see the story, but no one else is writing it so you decide to write it and you post it in a WIP to invite people along. I like dialogue. I like it a lot. So much so that I actually make a living writing dialogue...that means people pay me money to write and/or help their dialogue sound real, more authentic, to make it sound like people really talk so anyway I love dialogue and you're going to get plenty of that out of my fanfics. There are plenty of PWPs out there, but mine typically aren't those. 
> 
> So yeah I HATE author notes on fanfics...some may notice I rarely add them, rarely comment because I want the experience to be yours and yours alone...but I had to write this long ass note to say please don't be rude. The world is on fire and I'm writing this as an escape for me and others.....Finally.....omg did ya'll see that picture Arwel posted of them?????????? on to the story....

Ben took a breath.

"I did," Ben said. Thinking if you can't be honest in the middle of a pandemic then when the hell can you be? "I did because....Mark and Steven wrote some good scripts, great ones , in fact."

Martin raised an eyebrow. "And you hate acting in great scripts now? What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Listen. Um. They talked to me since the beginning. John and Sherlock...they were actually supposed to....uhh..yeah."

Martin's eyebrows raised. "Really?" Ben nodded his head. "Fuck... so you...wait you knew and you didn't tell me?"

"They didn't want at least one of us playing it differently. Fortunately somehow with just me knowing it still...it still worked enough to well..."

"Inspire a shit load of people saying it was happening and...they were right."

"Yes."

"And I ....I wasn't told. Right." Martin squeezes his eyes shut and then opens them wide while taking a breath. "Fucking hell. I said...I said over and over that we didn't play it like that."

"I know....but--"

"But what? But it's okay that I was this asshole yelling about it wasn't something, but it was actually exactly that? Fuck you. And Fuck Gatiss and company for leaving me out there being the asshole."

"I was going to say 'but your acting was perfect even if you didn't know."

Martin gives a hollow laugh. "Flattery isn't working this time, Ben." He takes a breath and seems to force himself to go on. He starts by shaking his head, but then speaks on. "So why'd you change the script?"

"I'm gay," Ben says in almost a whisper.

Martin doesn't roll his eyes, but you can tell he's frustrated as his eyes look up and down back to Ben. All the while he's biting his lip. 

Martin says through clenched teeth. "You played Turing."

"I played a man who never had to kiss another man."

"Still gay," Martin says. "It was still a gay character."

Ben turns away. "I'm not..I can't explain it. I just felt like." He turns back to look at Martin. "I felt like this would out me..." In more ways than one, Ben thinks. 

"God Ben. Was getting a couple extra roles worth it? All of it?" Martin stands and walks out the room. It's not long before he's back with a bottle of gin and he gives himself a long pour into a mug. "Hmm. Was it?"

Ben has thought about that question for a long time. Was it worth it? He loved his children so anything was worth having them in the world, and as wrong as it was staying in just a little bit longer gave him more opportunity than coming out.

"Yes," Ben says. Emphatic. "But I wish it wasn't at the cost of the show. At the cost of--" Martin took a drink then and seemed to wait for Ben to go on. "Of everything it affected." Ben finished.

Martin took his drink to his mouth and drank until the cup was empty. "So... where's this favorite scene at?"

**Int. John's old bedsit.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short...but the next bit should be up by evening. The next will be in script format.


	9. Chapter 9

INT. John's old bedsit.

John is standing in the middle of the bedsit. His arms at his side with his left hand curling into a fist. He makes a fist and releases it. He does this one, two, three times. He turns around taking in the small size. He look at the table where his computer used to sit, it's now empty. He opens the drawer where his gun was, and it's now empty too. He walks to the bed and sits. In his mind's eye we see him envisioning a set of memories.

Ext. John on the battle field almost dying  
Ext. John standing on the street watching Sherlock jump to his death  
Int. John seeing Mary die  
Int. John seeing Sherlock hold Rosie  
Int. John seeing Sherlock hold and teach Rosie  
Int. John seeing Sherlock pack up Rosie's bag for her as John comes to pick her up after work.

We then see John shake his head. His confusion is apparent to us and him.

John  
I don't know.

Sherlock  
Perhaps I can help

John turns to see Sherlock standing at the door.

Sherlock is wearing his belstaff and is taking off gloves.

Sherlock gives a look around the place. He gives it a once over, he smiles a very false smile.

Sherlock  
It's... nice. But why are we here?

John  
I'm here because I was just checking it out and you're here because this time you followed me for some reason.

Sherlock  
We have a case.

John stands, raises his shoulders up then down, and cracks his neck

John  
Right.

Sherlock doesn't move however and stands still. His eyes dart back and forth before closing then opening them. His mouth falls open

John  
Don't.

John says this as he walks past Sherlock and outside. Sherlock follows.

Sherlock  
Should we...talk?

John  
(gives a hollow laugh)  
No...that is not something we should do.

John raises a hand to hail a cab, and as one slows he turns around to see Sherlock is gone. 

John waves the cab away and sees Sherlock walking back inside and around to John's ground floor bedsit.

John sees Sherlock stood in the middle of the room, hands held out in front of him as if he's trying to figure something out.

John  
Unless the case is in a bedsit I don't know what you're looking--

Sherlock  
I think--I--

Sherlock suddenly stops and moves towards John who backs up at first then stops when he realises what Sherlock is doing.

John tilts his head and braces for the kiss

Sherlock immediately notices and he gives a wry smile before he kisses John.

John's hands go up to press into the small of Sherlock's back.

Sherlock's are on either side of John's face hand are holding John in place.

They pull back both panting.

  * John
  * We have a case...



Sherlock

We do.

Sherlock kisses him again, obviously not caring.  
John pulls back.

John  
I was thinking. There's only one you in the world. I don't know if what I want means I should--

John kisses Sherlock, but then pulls back and sees Sherlock 

John

Go on. How did you know?

Sherlock

Your shoes are both tied, tight, double knot on one though.

We zoom in on John's shoes then pull back to John's confused face , him mouthing 'How?'

And then Sherlock continues

Sherlock

Which means you've been thinking about this since you got up and put on your shoes.

You tied one the way you regularly do, but the other is tied differently.

You were thinking of a change, different, and though you could've made it uniform you decided it was...all fine. And you must've known I--

John silences him with a kiss. It's sweet and just this side of long.

We hear Sherlock's phone ping notifying him of a message.

Sherlock picks it up quickly. We see the text on screen as he pockets it. 

_DONOVAN: I need your help_

Sherlock  
I can do both.

John raises an eyebrow

Sherlock  
Isn't it a little early in the relationship for double entendre, John?

John  
Nah...never too early. But go on. I know you're dying to finish.

Sherlock raises an eyebrow himself then continues

Sherlock  
You come here to think when you're getting ready to make a life change. 

You likely did before you proposed to Mary and when you decided to leave Baker street after I...

John  
Moving on

Sherlock  
You were trying to decide if you wanted to be in a relationship with me because you're...but you....

Suddenly Sherlock's face and mind catches up with the deductions he's been working through, slowed down by the excitement of the kiss.

Sherlock's face is ashen. He stops smiling gleefully and becomes stone-faced

John's face shows guilt, then fear

Sherlock steps away from John.

Sherlock  
And you had decided it wasn't...worth it.

John  
No that's not what I--Sherlock?

Sherlock leaves and walks out to the pavement.  
John follows.

John  
I've got a right to think things through, Sherlock.

Sherlock  
Yes

  
Sherlock raises a hand and as always a cab instantly comes.

He opens the door and as he's getting in he turns back to look at John

Sherlock  
As do I. For now Donovan has a case she'd like our help with.

John  
Donovan? But--?

Sherlock  
(To the driver) To the Tower Estates please

  
The driver begins driving away. Sherlock leaves John on the pavement with a confused look on his face, then anger, then John shakes his head, and he once again makes a fist and lets it go a few times. He strides off into the night. The camera focuses in on a cctv camera which follows John.


	10. Chapter 10

Martin finished reading the quick scene and it was obvious how he felt. Martin didn't like it. Ben could tell when Martin didn't like something because he was quiet about it. Most people took him for a fairly shouty man who goes around very loudly proclaiming the things he hates, but the reality is Martin is simply quiet. He lived by the adage if you don't have anything to say then be really quiet about it until someone forced it out of you and even then be a bit cagey about it.

"You didn't like it?" Ben asked. His eyes narrowing in confusion. The scene worked. The characters were together. And it took them back to a place in their past to allow them to move forward. He liked the layers of the scene.

"Well," Martin began shifting in his chair and letting the unbound pages from the script fall from his hand and back onto the counter though he did reach out to make sure they didn't touch the plate. "I just...I don't know. It's not that I don't like it."

"Then?" Ben asked.

Martin gave a shrug and wrinkled his nose. He crossed his arms and leaned back. "Dunno. Just not quite how I imagined it."

"You've...imagined it?" Ben was shocked and his face showed it.

"Yeah," Martin said with another shrug. "Fucks sake, Ben. After a decade of this bullshit haven't you?"

'Yes', Ben wanted to say. 'I have many times' But the reality was that he hadn't quite...not John and Sherlock exactly. He gulped then spoke. "Maybe once or twice." Not quite a lie. 

Martin looked at him curiously then shook his head and stood. 

"Okay like... get up." Ben dutifully obeyed and Martin moved him into position. Still in the small kitchen area, but Martin positioned Ben next to an empty wall. "So do one of your Sherlock speeches."

"You expect me to remember one of those long things? You've seen me on the day of. Barely a moment without the pages in my hand."

"Okay fine," Martin huffed. "So like pretend you're him and do a deduction about having almost figured out it was the killer because of the color of paint or some such bullshit. Just don't stop talking until I give you the cue."

"What's the cue?"

Martin gave a wink. "You'll know. Okay um....action or go...or ya know..act!"

Ben had a think and tried to get in the mindset of the detective. He started by standing up taller, elongating his neck. He didn't have a collared shirt on or he'd have pulled the collar up. Instead he simply straightened his clothes and made his eyes dart around the room and decided to just go for it. 

"John, I'm so close. There's obviously something about the paint. The paint colour wasn't special, of course Lestrade's team was wrong about that, but it was the same as we found in Evan Thomas' home--"

"Sherlock," Martin said as if John was trying to get Sherlock's attention.

Ben quickly understood that John wouldn't have been heard by Sherlock so he continued. "He purchased the egg shell paint this past Sunday. Receipt. CCTV all confirms. And he hadn't left his home prior to that for 7 days. The body which showed signs of strangulation and paint inhalation was found two days prior to that and--"

"Sherlock--," Martin said again a little more tersely like John would.

Ben continued as Sherlock, "So how and why would the same paint that he hadn't purchased already be in the victim's lungs unless--"

"Sherlock!" Martin said as John and then took a hold of Ben and pushed him into the wall, not hard, but firm. This was the cue.

Ben stopped as he assumed Sherlock would as well and looked at John. Martin then licked his lips and then covered Ben's mouth with his own. A kiss that quickly turned from startled to heated. Ben trying to stay in character, but allowing himself this because the reality is that the idea of Martin kissing him was something he never thought possible, at least not unless they were on a set. Not alone in Martin's home while Martin expertly held him tightly in place while gently caressing his face. The duality of Martin and...John. The kiss Martin laid upon him...well Sherlock lasted only a few seconds before Martin pulled back and immediately seemed to get back into character...or maybe he never left. 

"Take a moment okay? You've been running yourself ragged." Martin stepped back and open and closed his fist as if he were John. "I'm worried about you...us. 'K?" Martin as John raised an eyebrow. 

Ben remembered a bit too late, but Martin raised his eyebrows to remind him it was his line. What would Sherlock say after that?

"John..." The sound coming out of Ben's mouth was an almost whisper.

Martin smiled and seemed to break character.

"That's more real right? I mean you're going to say I like it more because John takes charge, but come on ...we both know that it'd be him. Fair dues to Sherlock, but John is the action."

Ben worked to shake off the scene, the touch, the want that was coiling in his belly, the forgotten feeling that he'd spent years ignoring. "I mean...yeah." Ben cleared his throat and tried to move on. "Yes...good. I like it."

"Yeah?" Martin asked almost bashful.

"Yes. We should call Mark and ask...I mean he's probably looking for something to do."

"Oh yeah," Martin laughed. "His actors calling about rewrites is sure to make his quarantine experience that much more fun."

Ben laughed in return. "So you want to call him or shall I?"

\---

Martin picked up his phone to call then realized a facetime might be better so he switched it to that and waited for Mark's face to appear.

"Martin?" Mark answered. "Hi. It's lovely to hear from you."

"Hi Mark. How's things? Ian? What not and all that jazz?"

"Oh God. You want to talk about the script don't you?" Mark asked.

"How'd you know?"

"Well because you only ask after things when you want to take out whole paragraphs that I've lovingly crafted. If you compliment me next I'll know I'm in trouble."

"You are looking VERY fit," Martin said.

"Fuck," Mark replied. "What is it?"

"Well first off I think you should know um..." Martin moved the camera to show where Ben was sitting on the other end of the couch. "Ben is here."

"Ben? Ben what are you doing there?"

Martin moved the camera back. "Long story, but he's here during the required quarantine so think of it this way you have a captive audience and you get to see us act out the little bits to help with the script."

"HELP. WITH. THE. SCRIPT?" Mark said and each word seemed more stressed and loud than the prior. He took a deep breath and said with a pointedly false smile. "What did you have in mind?" 

"Oh come off it," Martin said. "But it's just one bit...let us act out how we think it should go. Obviously your brilliant writing is missing but...one sec." Martin balanced the phone on the top of the counter and positioned Ben again. They ran through their quickly improvised scene a second time, a bit more quicker since they both knew what they were going to say, but this time with Mark as an audience. Also this time the kiss went on for a little longer. Martin thinking them putting on a show for Mark probably wouldn't hurt to sway him to their side of things. After all the truth could never be ignored that him and Ben shared something that was rare and pretty fucking amazing. Them sharing a scene was sizzling, them sharing a kiss had to be fire. Their chemistry even as they kissed only for a second time was sheer perfection in Martin's mind. Fucking unbelievable how well it worked. This second time Martin acting as John pulled away from Sherlock slowly. He ad-libbed a new line even editing away his prior one to make it shorter and adding a raised eyebrow and a look of anguish. "I'm worried," he said in John's soft, tense voice.

"Don't be," Ben quickly picked up and spoke like Sherlock. "It'll never happen again." Hinting at the unspoken worry that John would likely always carry...would Sherlock leave him again? 

Martin as John gave a nod and stood back. He did the hand/fist movement again and then Martin broke character and looked over at the perfectly positioned phone where Mark was looking on. Mark's hand having flown to his chest in either a very good or bad reaction. 

"Uh thoughts?" Martin asked.

"Fucking hell I've got to rewrite the whole damn thing," Mark said. 

Martin let out a laugh. Ben smiled wide.

"Sorry," Martin said. "Yeah what he said," Ben added.

"Neither of you are sorry and you know it. That kiss scorched the screen. And I'm guessing you just came up with it on the fly?"

Martin gave a shrug. "Something like."

"Anything you can do I can do better," Mark said. "Give me a day or so. I'll make sure the whole set is on fire because of how good that kiss will be."

"Wait... that doesn't mean you're actually going to have the set be on fire right Mark?"

Mark's eyes lit up. "Oh there's an idea."

"Wait Mark!" Ben started.

"Okay toodles must be off. Will call you back tomorrow," Mark said and disconnected the call.

Ben and Martin looked at each other. Neither men spoke for a long moment. 

"Guess we'll see," Martin said.

Ben said nothing but gave a terse smile.

"I'll clean up. You can head up if you like." Martin said and went to pick up the dishes and clean things.

"Thanks...uh good night?" Ben said.

"Night Ben," Martin replied and continued cleaning things away.

Ben walked towards the stairs and when Martin turned around again he had gone up.

A few moments and a few dishes later Martin gave a knock to Ben's door.

"Come in," Ben replied.

"Just wanted to say there's a phone charger in the drawer there." Martin pointed to the bedside table.

"Thanks."

"Clothes wise I think I have a few things that'll fit you so I'll get those to you tomorrow morning. We can wash your things out too. For now those pyjamas should do right?"

"I think so," Ben replied. Their silence stretched as Martin leaned on the door and Ben sat on the bed quietly. They stared at each other not speaking, not questing further. Words hanging in the air but unsaid for fear of what came next.

"Okay," Martin said and gave a smile as if they'd finished an unspoken conversation. "Down the hall if you need me...or want me." Martin gave a wink and closed Ben's door.


	11. Chapter 11

Day 2 (Very early day 2)

In the middle of the night Martin laid in his bed. He'd took a shower and let his mind go blissfully blank during it all. He played a bit of Stevie Wonder as he put on pyjama bottoms and one of his threadbare t-shirts. Amanda had finally got a few videos to go through so he looked at her and the kids watching films and cooking dinner. He read through the news and tried to get his head around a world in which people were required to remain indoors all the time and had to avoid touching others. Something about that made him feel alone. And he spent plenty of time on his own, but the idea of not having the option to see a friend, give them a hug, a kiss, a squeeze, a cuddle. It felt like a world gone terribly wrong. 

He shook his head and tried to let that worry go for now. After all it was the middle of the night and that's when he does his best "Am I the worst fuckin human being alive thinking?" When it's time to sleep he can't quite stop replaying things that mean very little to others (and often even himself), but still he replays the moments because he constantly wonders if he reacted poorly, rudely, wrongly or other words which mean he was an asshole. 

Today's day was simple enough to review. So Ben came over and Martin was nice to him. He welcomed him to stay and he didn't seem put out about it at all. He did say he didn't want to do Sherlock again, but he always says that. Everyone knows he likes endings so really he wasn't that rude about it. He always gives in and did this time as well. Hell after everything of course he would. So perhaps saying "no" wasn't kind, but he gave in...quite fucking quickly. Perhaps suggesting changes to Mark wasn't kind, but he even agreed that their quick edits were better. Kissing Ben wasn't unkind or rude. Not really. It was for the scene, for the work, for the show, for...himself. Just a bit. Martin knew he wanted to kiss Ben for a while. It'd been a problem since 2012, really 2010 if he's being honest with himself. And if he couldn't be honest with himself in the middle of the night then he never would be. So when looking at the mirror his mind constantly holds up to his actions he thought about a few things that he's never quite admitted to himself.

Martin kicked off the sheets he was barely under and sat up. He quietly walked out of his room and over to the small sitting area with the balcony door that lead out to the top of his house. The door only creaked just a bit when he opened it, but it was worth the quick noise. 

The small area he has there was definitely part of the reason he bought this place. A way to be outside, but not. He stood in the chill as his breath momentarily hung in front of his face. He blew faux smoke rings for a second before starting a little pace back and forth. Each time he breathed in a lungful of air. It only took a few minutes before the small excursion did what he wanted and he's found himself fully awake and far more focused than he was lazing in bed. So he knew it was time to be honest with himself about it all. Really fucking honest. The kind of honesty that you can only be when you allow yourself the ability to consider every fuckin piece of evidence.

So he thought about his history. He thought about the times in the beginning where Amanda jokingly said she felt Martin had a little crush. He thought about the times where she got more pointed and accused him of things being far more than they were. Things getting so bad that he had to mention that Amanda wasn't, in fact, his beard, but someone he'd chosen to spend his life with, raise children with. He'd told her many times that it wasn't that way. But she knew, she knew not just about Martin's past with men, but she also knew that Martin was a very good liar even to himself. 

And he had lied. He lied because it was easier than facing the reality of it all. The clear cut inability for it all to work out without a lot of people getting hurt. It was impossible. 

It was impossible _THEN_ , he thought. He had thought that when he finally came to some realisation of what he really fucking felt.

His mind wandered back to that day when he'd given an absolutely asinine interview where he'd he finally gave voice to everything. Was Ben in love? Well la de dah and fuckin good for him. He still cringed thinking about it, but it seemed to have blown over and no one really saw that interview or picked up on his reaction being as subtle as a fucking hammer. Fellow actors don't talk like that about someone they're just in a show with, fellow actors don't seem like an old lover pissed the fuck off their ex was getting married. Fuck. That day he'd went back to his hotel room and in the dark of the night he took a little walk like now and thought about the fact that Amanda was right. Not just about the fact that Martin was spending too much time from home. Not just about the fact that Amanda and him had grown apart. But she was right about the reason for that. The reason sleeping a few yards away. 

The sigh he gave was filled with worry and confusion beyond measure. He had plenty of people to spend time with and, if he's honest, plenty of people to just fuck. But truth be told he knew his heart is something he has to guard like a fuckin hawk. 

Martin looked up at the night and thought to himself that he still wanted Ben, but beyond that he wanted Ben to want him. He wanted their relationship to not just be a few months on set here and there. He wanted to have somehow been in a world where they could go out for a date or for something beyond the impossible shit they're in. He wanted to see where it went. 

"Hell." He danced around it, but finally decides to just let the thought be out there...not in the world, but at least in his head. 'I'm in love with Ben' "Fuck."

"Martin, you okay?" 

Martin turned and saw Ben sleepy eyed with tousled hair giving a scratch to his belly lifting the pyjama top up a bit before it fell back down.

"You've got to be cold," Martin said.

"You too." Ben gave a yawn and leaned at the door that lead out to the balcony area. "Why're you up?"

"When I do my best thinking.” He have a tight smile. “You?"

"Cell phone rang. Sophie called. Finally got through and the kids wanted to say goodnight."

"They're up late."

"Yeah," Ben said. "She let them stay up watching Dad's films since he wasn't there." Ben gave a sad smile.

"I'm sorry you're stuck here during this," Martin said and he walked closer towards Ben. He wanted to reach out to him and give him a hug and warm him up. He didn't. 

Ben gave a shrug. "Could be worse." He added a smile. "Anyway sorry I came to look for you, no answer at your bedroom door and I don't know...got paranoid you'd left and so came looking for you." Ben gave a quick smile. "Abandonment issues of a boarding school lad."

"Ahh," Martin said. "Well I was just having a think out there. I'm not going anywhere." The thought had crossed his mind to make a joke about Ben's boarding school. That's often where Martin went, but he just wanted to reassure the man. Explain to him that he's okay. So he stepped forward and gave in to give Ben a hug. Ben hugged back, firm. Crushing his arms around Martin and giving him a full on body locking hug and squeeze. Martin responded in kind with a tight hug that he both gave and took. It wasn't even that long since the start of all this, but Martin was a man who liked to touch others and he needed this. Because there's just something about touching others Martin has always liked. When people were not just okay with it, but responded in kind it meant they were making a connection unlike any other. Non-verbal and still it said fucking lots. Not that he didn't have friends who weren't fans of hugs and touches. He did have those in his life and he loved them just as much as the others, but he liked giving a hug or a pinch or a gentle grip or a smack or a kiss to friends. It didn't have to mean much more than the other friend realising they were someone in his heart. So Martin pulled back and gave a kiss to Ben's cheek. Ben gave a sleepy smile. Martin stepped back.

"Listen. This is going to sound fucking weird, but do you want to have a little cuddle as we try to fall asleep. It doesn't have to be wei--"

"Yes," Ben said quickly.

"Good," Martin said. "I just —I don't know about you but I think this whole thing is going to suck and I'd like it to suck less...or more if you're up for it." He joked.

Ben gave an awkward laugh, leaned back and let his arms fall awkward to his side. "You've gotta stop that ya know."

Martin tilted his head. "What?"

"You...flirting. The whole...thing you do."

"Ahh yeah. Sorry. I'm sorry. Really.” He tried for a smile and failed. “Natural habit ya know."

"I do."

“I'm still learning boundaries. If it were up to me everyone would be super touchy feely.” He paused and gave Ben a look but continued. “Anyway I'll head to bed now. Sorry about that." Martin walked towards Ben who backed up out the door and they were both inside quickly. Martin closed and locked the door. Then gave a quick squeeze to Ben's shoulders and started walking towards his room.

"No it's not...I mean," Ben walked near Martin then stopped and took a breath. "You must know. If you didn't before, you have to know now."

Martin wasn't quite exactly sure what his next step would be. He was at the door to his bedroom so he turned around. He bit at his lip and gave a quick smile before looking at Ben and then away and landing back at him. He didn't know. Not about Ben. Martin had been wrong about it before, or at least the extent. He was sure it was one thing, leading to something else, and then Ben up and announced he was getting married. 

"Not really," Martin said. And it was honest. He didn't. He hadn't figured out Ben at fucking all. At least anything beyond his own thoughts and he just figured that out a few moments ago.

Ben stepped forward and seemed to take a big breath.

Martin had time to brace for it because Ben took one large step and was in his space and then Ben's mouth was on his. Martin's hands found a firm hold on Ben's back, easing their way down to grip Ben’s backside quite firmly. Ben held Martin's head in his hands and tilted it up. He kept grip on Martin's face keeping him in place, deepening the kiss almost immediately. Martin having had plenty of taller partners loved when he was kissed like this with the passion and focus of both people. Martin pushed forward and the kiss quickly turned more heated. A move of Martin's legs and he found the answering hardness in Ben. With both men in Pyjama bottoms there wasn't a chance to hide and Martin wasn't hiding any longer. Not with this. He wanted Ben and it was damn obvious Ben, at least part of him, wanted Martin. And Martin could give that to him. Hell take what was being given to him. The idea of finally touching Ben, holding him, fucking him sent even more shockwaves through Martin's body and he took hold of Ben and angled them both into his room. It wasn't long before they were at the bed and Martin decided to not think about this anymore. He wanted this. 

But in an instant Ben stepped back, not so far back that Martin didn't notice him taking measured, but quick breaths. Martin's hands fell as Ben moved out of his space and on instinct he curled them both and then let them fall open.

"I'm sorry," Ben spoke quietly.

Martin shook his head. "The fuck are we doing here?" He was fuckin confused.

Ben seemed to joke. "Letting about a decade of things finally come to a head"

Martin hated himself, but still gave a tight smile. "A head?"

Ben gave a smile, but didn't laugh. "I'm sorry. I don't--I should go back to my.. I'm sorry." Ben turned towards the door, but quickly Martin reached out a hand to hold onto Ben's so he wouldn't take another step.

"How about we think of it like this?" Martin sighed. Not what he wants but it’s something. “What happens in quarantine, stays in quarantine?"

"Which means?" Ben asked.

"Come to bed," Martin said. He didn't add anything to that. His remained motionless and he tried to give nothing away other than a quick smile. He didn't want to show his hand, show his heart. He didn't want to say that if they could just have this one fucking night together then hell he'd take it because he fuckin needs Ben. Martin bit his lip again looked away then back at Ben. He stepped forward and laid a gentle kiss on Ben's lips. His mind raced with the thought that this was going to end badly, but fuck it he wanted this, needed this. And he'd worry about his stupid fuckin' heart another day, another time. He moved and gave a kiss to Ben's neck, his cheek, and finally Ben’s waiting lips again. Then Martin pulled back and one eyebrow arched up in a question. 

"Yes," Ben answered. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So another author's note: ugh I'm sorry I just am not sure about the rating so I'm leaving it up to you guys. Explicit sex or no? Really I could go either way. I used to be a 'so when do they fuck?' fanfic reader and now I'm a 'when are you people going to talk and figure your shit out?' fic reader. So it's up to the readers on this one. So poll question is:
> 
> "Do you want explicit sex scenes or not?" You don't have to leave a long comment , but if you don't mind (and you can do it on anon I know many of my freebatch readers read anon) it would help me out here. 
> 
> Thanks and I hope everyone is keeping safe and healthy. I hope that all your friends and families and favs are all safe too. Be kind today if you can. 
> 
> xoxo--KA


	12. pain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to all who replied. It's still up in the air, but gave me some sort of idea of where I'll go.

Day 2 (morning)

When Ben woke in the morning he took slow breaths as the world and the prior day came back to him. it all felt like a nightmare he'd wake up from, but it wasn't. The nightmare involved the hellish idea that the world was dealing with a pandemic and also what happened between him and Martin the night before.

  
****

They were kissing and Ben had fallen back onto Martin's bed. Martin , as Ben had always assumed, moved fast. His hands finding a place on Ben's shoulder to keep his safe and steady the the other holding himself up. He let that hand go only to roll them around with Ben on top and Martin moved just a touch before he thrust up and knocked the breath out of Ben with how good it felt. Ben gave a moan and fell forward, their lips finding each other before Martin gave another thrust and another and then...he stopped. He turned his face away and took a breath. Ben didn't get the cue immediately so he took that time to kiss Martin's neck, which elicited a whimper that made Ben smile before Martin turned to him and spoke.

"I don't think....shit." Martin took a breath. "I don't think we should do this. Fuck." He gave a laugh. "Actually not fuck. I'm sorry."

Ben didn't waste time he'd been in this situation a few times with someone deciding he wasn't worth it. So he moved off and mentally cursed his erection which didn't get the memo as quick and he made his way towards the door.

"Ben, please," Martin called out.

"No --I--I get it," Ben continued walking. "I'll see you in the--"

"I'm in love with you."

Ben turned around and looked at him. Martin sat up from his bed and let his legs hang off the side. He put his head in his hands and took a breath before he looked up. His eyes shiny.

Ben knew he needed to speak. But those words were never meant to come out of Martin Freeman's mouth, never meant to be aimed at him so he was quite lost.

Martin stood then decided against that and sat back down."Listen, I--Fuck I didn't meant to say it like that."

"How did you mean to say it?"

Martin laughed. "Well to start...I meant to say it about 5 well 6 years ago."

Ben couldn't quite speak. "You-" He started and stopped. Cleared his throat. "You meant to say it about 5 or--" He stopped. His mind trying to do the math. Back in 2014 or 2015. Right before he was married. 

Martin sighed. "Oh FUCK I hate this. I fuckin hate this. I just gotta fucking imagine there's a version of us out there not dealing with all this bullshit, but we are and...fuck it's been hard. I-- fuck." Martin took a breath and looked away.

Ben was aware he needed to say something, ask something. But the thing that he wanted to say was bubbling up and it was full of anger. Still he couldn't stop himself. "Why the fuck didn't you say anything before?"

"I was---I didn't know if what...if it was ...the timing you know. The fuckin timing. Fuck. And I kept asking myself back then was it real?" Martin gives a hollow laugh. "Who the fuck doesn't flirt on a set?"

"ME!" Ben shouted. "I don't. Not with anyone...ever--" He paused and knew he had to be honest. "Except with you. Only with you."

"How the fuck was I supposed to know that? You were getting sexiest men articles written. And you never fucking said anything. So here I was in a relationship a fuckin long time. And I thought to myself. Ya know this is what it's supposed to be. Me and her. And he's just this...this.."

"What?" shouted Ben. "What the fuck was I? Just someone you just wanted to fuck with?"

Martin laughed. "Maybe if we had fucked...maybe it would've been easier to just get over it."

"Right," Ben said. "So it's gone from you loving me to you just wanting to fuck me and be done."

"No, I mean--fuck's sake. Listen I'm saying. We danced around it for years never saying anything so it got fucked up and I don't even know what the fuck anymore. I just know-"

"What? What Martin? You knew I held onto you for ages. You had to have known."

"I'm not a fuckin mindreader, Ben." Martin stood and seemed to be hoping the standing would eek out just a bit of his frustration.

"I loved you," Ben said. 

"Getting married is funny fuckin way of showing it then, Ben."

Ben stopped. He took a breath. Martin continued on.

"You--you didn't even fuckin tell me." His voice was gravely, choked up. Still Martin continued on. "You know the worst thing anyone ever said to me wasn’t even spoke aloud. No you never said you didn’t want this....want me. Hell you didn't fuckin tell me anything. I heard about it from Amanda. Her laughing about it because she had accused me of having a crush on you for fuckin years. 'Guess you gotta get over your crush since Ben's getting married' and you never fuckin told me a damn thing.”

Ben regretted that to this day. He never emailed or called or even texted Martin. What they'd had before may have just been friendship and flirting, but still Martin deserved to hear it from him and yet Ben didn't say a damn thing. Maybe because he knew what saying something would truly mean. Maybe he hoped that by not saying anything that he could pretend that things wouldn't change. But of course they did, of course they should. 

Ben walked forward. He didn't have words. He just wanted to show Martin he was sorry, but before he could get close to the man to hug him Martin held up a hand. "Martin, I'm--"

"It's fine," Martin said. He didn't meet Ben's eyes. But he did continue talking to him. "And yet I still...I don't know. I kept a torch going. And every time we were together yeah gonna be honest I had to fight with myself to be normal. And tonight you want to know why I was out there?"

Ben remained silent, he was afraid to hear Martin continue.

"I needed to think about how you being here would make things harder to hide."

Ben would've laughed if it wasn't all so sad. He'd thought the same mere hours ago. 

"Then don't hide," Ben said. "I'm in love with you too."

Martin did meet his eyes then. He looked up at him and for a moment Ben thought this would be fine. Then he slowly shook his head no and spoke softly, sadly.

"You're married. We're both actors. There's no way this turns out okay and you know it."

"But--"

"You giving up Dr. Strange? Can't imagine Disney wants a gay man playing one of their main characters."

"We could--"

"Hide? yeah fuck that. I don't need to shout, but the only closets I like involve clothes not shame."

Martin held up both hands and looked a way then lowered them both slowly and took a breath as he stepped back. 

"Listen. While you're here let's just focus on whatever we need to do for the show, but I guess I can't...I thought I could but...shit. Guess I'm not young like I used to be. Being with you would hurt the fuck out of me."

"Martin--" Ben didn't stop himself he walked forward and took Martin's face in his hands and held while he kissed him. Martin didn't stop it, but instead seemed to throw everything into the kiss. Their breaths intermingled as their lips and mouths seemed to stop the pain of every honest word spoken to instead focus on pleasing and loving and kissing each other. But then Martin stepped back suddenly.

"It'd fuckin break me, Ben. I can't--" Martin shook his head. "I can't. I'm in--I can't."

Then Martin walked past Ben to his bedroom's door and held it open. Ben wasn't going to fight it any longer. He walked out of it and down the all to the room he was in earlier. It took a while but he eventually fell asleep

***

And there he remained until the morning. As he turned over in bed and realised it was the next day. He felt the ache of it all overtake him. So he decided that fuck it. He was going back to sleep.


End file.
